Dreams and Green Hairpins
by breathingblue
Summary: AU. Semi companion piece to Black Swords and Coffee. The dream ends this way.


Title: Dreams and Green Hairpins  
AU. Companion piece to "Black Swords and Coffee"

* * *

"_Kurosaki_-_kun_."

Someone calls your name as you drift between consciousness and silent dream. You jerk up, white sheets fluttering down onto the cold floor. The warmth is wasted.

You don't know anyone who would call you that.

Kurosaki-kun.

You pause for a moment, hoping for the soft voice to come back to you.

It doesn't.

It never does.

Eyes wide open, you flop yourself down, not bothering to pick up the fallen bed sheets, and place your hands behind your head.

* * *

"So another one bites the dust, huh?"

You don't answer.

You lean heavily against the metal rail lining the rooftop, looking down at all those people…

"You're a doctor," you half growl, half whisper. The man stands next to you, cigarette firmly pursed between his lips. He chuckles a little and takes a long drag.

A thick line of white smoke issues from his mouth and you grimace.

"So are you…" the man with midnight blue hair and glinting silver glasses smiles wryly.

"It seems we're both not very good at doing our jobs," the man laughs as he tosses the cigarette onto the ground, snuffing the glowing remains with the heel of his expensive leather shoe.

You just stare at the bloodied sleeves of your white coat for a long time, even after the rooftop door slammed shut.

* * *

It's the same dream:

People are waiting for you on the other side of a large, metal wrought gate.

Some women, some men all wearing black. It's strange; it's like something out of a bad samurai movie. You have the good sense not to snort in disbelief as you realize that you're wearing the same thing as they are.

And you try not to roll your eyes as you run towards them.

They're smiling.

They wave and they're saying something but you just aren't close enough to hear them yet.

Just one more step. 

Then in the blink of an eye, all that's left is a vast ocean of sand and the humidity presses down on your chest.

She stands there, dressed all in white and you've had this dream so many times that you don't even have to look at her to describe her as she is.

Pretty. She's pretty, auburn hair every which way even though it's being held back at her temples by green flower pins. Her profile is facing you and you will her to turn your way. But like all those times before, she never does.

And she's always crying.

Crying and smiling at the same time.

The moment you reach out to touch her shoulder, the land collapses around her and she falls, crying and smiling and crying and smiling…

The dream ends this way.

* * *

When you first tell your childhood friend about this dream, she smacks a rough, callous hand on your forehead. Then she crouches forward and gives you the "no nonsense now, Kurosaki Ichigo" look.

"Are you taking drugs?"

You push her away and snap at her, drawing stares from the students she teaches at the local dojo.

For your effort, you get thrown a sparring uniform and a kick that, if you were anyone but her childhood karate sparring partner, would have sent someone to the hospital.

How ironic.

* * *

"… _wish… I could… five… lives… five loves… Kuro_-"

You clutch desperately at the front of your T-shirt and gasp for breath.

It's as if bandages were tying you down onto the bed, stopping you just millimeters from touching her. Her voice fades away and your short nails bite into the palms of your hands.

Frustrated, you sit up, pushing the sheets off of the bed once again. You feel weak, worthless because you weren't able to protect her. But who is she that you have to protect her? Who are you to her? Who is she to you?

Five lives.

Five… loves…

What?

What does she mean?

And why? Why was she saying these things, as if she was marching off towards death? Why? Why? Why?

You press your fists against your eyes, applying pressure.

What is she trying to say?

You press harder and harder until your arms, your whole body shake.

As if nothing in your life mattered. As if you were doing all the wrong things, all the unimportant things the whole time. Why does she inspire the most profound emptiness in the very core of your body?

"_Sayonara. Kurosaki-kun_."

The moon laughs at you.

Auburn tresses dance in the wind behind your closed eyes and for the first time in years, you cry.


End file.
